


If I Had to Fight Through Hell

by EchoShimmer



Series: Wumptober 2020 [5]
Category: Batman - All Media Types
Genre: "Please stop", Canon-Typical Violence, Explicit Language, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Jason Todd Has a Bad Time, Jason Todd is Red Hood, Jason Todd is Robin, Jason Todd-centric, Joker's Mind Games, Kidnapping, M/M, Made-Up Technology, it's Jason's, reliving past trauma, wumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-06
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-07 18:07:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,131
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26861869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EchoShimmer/pseuds/EchoShimmer
Summary: Tim goes missing and Jason is willing to do whatever it takes to find him, even if that means taking a trip into the Joker's mind.
Relationships: Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne, Tim Drake/Jason Todd
Series: Wumptober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1948924
Comments: 7
Kudos: 77





	If I Had to Fight Through Hell

**Author's Note:**

> This one is written at the request of [CasualOtaku](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CasualOtaku/pseuds/CasualOtaku)! It was inspired by the movie "The Cell", which I have not seen, so hopefully all the right vibes got in there from the explanation I was given. I hope you all enjoy Jason's turn to get wumped :)

It all started when a small, rather unassuming package had shown up on the top of the GCPD’s building addressed to Batman. The GCPD had been rightfully suspicious, giving the box a wide berth and flicking on the signal. When unknown parties started leaving random packages for the Bats, everyone in Gotham knew it was best to just let them deal with it.

Somewhat unfortunately for them, Batman just so happened to be out of town at the moment, along with Robin, Nightwing, and basically every other caped hero. In fact, only Red Hood and Red Robin were currently in any position to respond to such a summons. It happened to be Hood who noticed the signal first, and after a quick check in with babybird (who didn’t respond, probably still holed up in his Nest or passed out asleep somewhere knowing the week he’s had) and to Oracle (who was able to give a quick overview of the situation to assure that yes, this summons did actually require a response), the Red Hood motored across town on his bike and grappled up for a rendezvous with the Comish.

Now, Hood might have been far from the GCPD’s favorite local hero, but in the months since Hood and Red had grown closer, Jason had managed to significantly alter the city’s perception of his activity. He was no longer a wanted man, at least. The welcome crew waiting for him by the signal were jumpy but heard him out. When it became clear that Batman would be unreachable in the near future, they relinquished the box to him, assuring the vigilante that the box had been scanned for all known explosive or otherwise nasty elements or trackers and therefore should at least be safe for a trip to a more private location. Hood nodded in thanks, but still ran his own quick analysis before tucking the thing into a compartment in his bike and tearing off towards the Batcave.

There Hood and Alfred had run just about every test they could on the thing before opening the mysterious package. That resolve lasted right up until the X-ray. Then Jason was ripping the tape open no matter how alarmed Alfred and Babs sounded at the action.

Sure enough, the items inside had been exactly what Jason had feared, Red Robin’s gauntlets and bandoleers. A couple more attempts at contact over Comms or phone and one very panicked Jason bursting into babybird’s apartment had confirmed the worst. Red Robin had been kidnapped.

And with the accompanying note that had been left in the box, there was no doubt as to who was responsible. Jason’s blood has ran cold as soon as his eyes had locked onto that stupid, inconspicuous playing card at the bottom of the box.

What followed amounted to nothing more than a wild and rather destructive goose chase throughout Gotham as the Red Hood wrecked a path through the Joker’s known safe houses, Oracle and Agent A both assisting grimly over Comms. And after one final, over dramatic battle where Hood heroically managed to resist the urge to put a bullet through the Clown’s head, the Joker was left in a coma of his own making, hit with one of his own faulty formulas, and Red Robin was nowhere to be found.

Jason was panicking. Tim was missing and probably in danger and the only person who knew how to find him was lying unconscious in a hospital ward. 

But then Babs, the brilliant and all knowing Oracle, had come up with a last ditch solution. An experimental device Batman had been tinkering with to simulate Martian telepathy that could allow the user access to another’s mind. She and Alfred had cautioned Jason to be patient, to wait for someone else to get there and go in themselves. Basically the entire Batfamily was already in route, Bruce himself less than an hour away. Literally any of them besides Jason would probably have a better shot of dealing with whatever insanity would lie in the Joker’s brain.

Hood couldn’t wait. Every cell in his body was screaming that they didn’t have the time to waste. Tim was in danger, and that took priority over whatever trauma Jason had going on. He dropped by the Clocktower just long enough to grab the device, ignoring Babs’ penetrating gaze, and proceeded to talk his way through the veritable wall of GCPD officers in order to gain access to the Joker’s room legally (oh the struggles of playing nice, but in this case it wouldn’t do any good for him to sneak in just to be discovered halfway through.)

Which brought him to now, staring down at the source of half his nightmares with a weird alien-hybrid tech piece on his head while the Commissioner looked on.

Go time. The device turned on and calibrated, and then Jason got the unsettling experience of falling forward while simultaneously being firmly planted in a chair. His senses blurred out, and-

\---

Jason was burning. Jason was drowning. Everything was green and his clothes were plastered to his limbs, dragging him downward. For one, extremely panicked moment, Jason’s mind flashed towards the Lazarus Pit, the feeling of his body being painfully stitched back together cell by cell, invading his brain with it’s poison. This was different, though. The pain was different, more of a burning sensation despite the moderate temperature. The liquid was ever so slightly thicker than water, and the chemical taste of whatever it was was distinctly different.

It was that discrepancy that let Jason get some distance, a couple conscious thoughts being able to sink through the haze to realize that no. This wasn’t real. The memories of what he had done less than a minute prior started to properly make themselves known, and Jason sucked in a breath, centering himself on the fact that his lungs held air, not liquid. The burning dulled down to a faint buzzing along his skin, and the green faded ever so slightly, more of a mist now. Jason tried to peer through it as he studied his surroundings.

Everything is fine. It’s all mental. Nothing can actually hurt him here, as long as he keeps his head on straight. He was just casually invading the mind of one of the most insane individuals on the planet to try and steal the information he needed to save his boyfriend, no big deal.

As if listening to Jason’s thoughts for the que for a dramatic entrance, a painfully familiar, chilling laugh echoed from all around Jason, originating from everywhere and nowhere all at once. Jason  _ hated _ that laugh.

“Well well well, if it isn’t my favorite little birdy come to visit. I must say, out of all of the possibilities I came up with about how you Bats would try and get that information out of me, this was not one of them. Today seems to have gotten the best of all of us, hasn’t it? I was oh so disappointed when Batsie didn’t show, but now, having  _ you  _ here in  _ my _ domain… this might actually be just as much fun as the original plan would have been.”

“I’m not here to play your mind games, Joker. What did you do with Red Robin?” Jason demanded. 

“Ah yes, the little red bird, the mini detective. He puts up a surprising amount of fight for such a small little guy, doesn’t he? He’s not dead, or at least he shouldn’t be yet. That would ruin the game, see?”

“We both know how these ‘games’ of yours always end, Joker. How about instead you just tell me where Red is and we can both go on with our day?” Jason attempted without much expectation. Sure enough, the Joker just cackled again, the sound grating.

“Now what would be the fun in that?” the Joker insisted. Jason scowled into the green mist, annoyed.

“Fine then. Are you just planning on hiding the whole time or are we going to be able to have an actual face to face conversation? Because I’ve got a whole lot of points I’d like to present.” Jason’s fists clenched at the thought.

“Oh don’t you worry birdy boy, I’m sure we’ll get a chance to chat, but I doubt that the conversation will go the way you think it will…”

And with that lovely promise, the Joker’s presence faded and the eerie green smokescreen fell away.

Jason blinked at the revealed, familiar layout of Amusement Mile. Not the decrepit current state of the former amusement park, mind you, but as the place apparently lived on in the Joker’s mind, colors bright, paintjobs shiny, rides whirring away. But there were no people around, besides Jason.

The scale of the various buildings and attractions also seemed off, until Jason happened to glance down at himself and realize that it was him that had changed. More specifically, he was in his fifteen year old body, the classic Robin suit and all. Jason scowled at the bright colors and his bare legs before cursing and pulling a Batarang from his belt. Fascinating that Joker’s mind would leave him his weapons. Hopefully the clown would be regretting that in a few minutes.

Jason cautiously pushed on forward, deciding quickly that Joker would most likely be waiting for him in the House of Mirrors, the dramatic bastard that he was. That was deep in the park, and Jason was starting from the entrance, which meant he had a lovely few minutes of creeping his way through this ghost town of a dreamscape.

Except, as Jason continued to move towards his destination, things kept happening that made him question that he was alone.

First it was the mirages of movement, shadows shifting at the edges of his vision. The first time it happened, Jason had spun around to look and found nothing. Huffing at his paranoia, Jason continued on, the grip on his Batarang just a hair tighter for it. But the little flashes  _ kept happening _ . They were infrequent and didn’t follow any pattern that Jason could figure out, appearing just often enough to keep Jason constantly on edge.

Then, when Jason reached what he mentally calculated as the approximate halfway point (assuming that the Joker didn’t plan on messing with him more) there was a laugh from somewhere to Jason’s left. High pitched. Female. Young. He spun around to face it, arm raised, and found nothing. Resigned to the fact that the shadows wouldn’t be the only illusions at play, Jason continued. The next time, the sound he got was a scream, the tone of it indifferentiable between excitement and fear. 

Jason’s fists clenched tighter, anxiety ratcheting higher. Every little thing that happened just served to make him more paranoid. Being in this body, smaller and weaker, when an enemy could pop out to mess with him from around any corner of this god forsaken place. He tried to remind himself that this was all just mind games. Nothing here was actually real. Nothing could hurt him. He was just here so that he could find Tim, and then he could leave and never return.

That didn’t stop him from breaking into a dead sprint when he heard the metal and metal scrape of an unsheathing blade from behind him.

Jason ran, heavy footsteps behind him determined in their pursuit.  _ It’s not real _ , Jason tries to hang on to.  _ They’re going to kill me, _ the other part of his mind says, insistent in it’s fear.  _ I can’t beat them alone _ .

So Jason runs and runs, his lungs and muscles straining as reality seems to warp around him. Was he actually making progress anymore? Was the Joker actually going to let them have their one on one like he said, or just leave Jason in this limbo forever?

This couldn’t actually go on forever, if Jason’s sapping energy levels were any indication. Eventually Jason’s body would give in, and the shadow assassin would catch him, and that would be it.

Eventually Jason stumbled, falling forward as his speed turned against him, knee impacting painfully with the ground. That didn’t matter, the pain from falling couldn’t matter, not when considering the longer lasting impact that would be wrought by the man following him. 

Jason twisted around and only got an impression of the dark figure towering over him, the glinting of a long blade, and all the sudden the sword was slicing through the air, and through Jason, and Jason’s chest was screaming in pain, and Jason was probably screaming right along with it but, though he couldn’t say for sure over the ringing in his ears. Jason’s eyes squeezed shut, not wanting to see the impending doom that would likely be the second blow-

That didn’t come. There was no whistle of a blade through the air, no crunch of gravel at the shifting of boots, no breathing. There was no pain. Jason’s eyes snapped open to find himself sitting in the middle of a rather large open area in the park, entirely alone and uninjured. None of that was real.

Damn Joker.

Irritated, Jason stood up, brushing off dirt from his chest that wasn’t there in the guise of having that extra assurance that he was in one piece. The Joker had just been toying with him, and Jason had fallen for it. He shook himself mentally, annoyed. Jason couldn’t keep falling for things like that if he wanted to have any hope of saving Tim. He had to focus.

Small mercies, Jason was now standing less than five hundred feet from the entrance to the House of Mirrors. Maybe Joker was getting just as impatient for this meeting as Jason was. Not wanting to push the confrontation back any longer, Jason strided forward and cautiously edged the door open, stepping inside only once he was assured that nothing was waiting to jump out at him.

Nothing jumped out. Nothing attacked him. Of course it was hard to be sure with all the mirrored walls blocking Jason’s vision, but Joker wasn’t really known for subtlety. Jason would almost be inclined to think that he had guessed wrong and that this wasn’t the right place, if not for the lingering instinct that urged him forward. He took another step into the room.

The door slammed shut as soon as Jason was out of arm's reach, and the exit instantly proceeded to blur until it was part of a continuous wall right in front of Jason’s eyes. He even ran a hand along the space where the door had been, even though he wasn’t entirely surprised by the latest trick. Nowhere left to go but forward now.

So Jason just held his Batarang at the ready and moved forward cautiously, straining to get a hint of any movement that wasn’t his own reflection. He peered carefully around one corner, then another, but still found nothing. There were no intersections, no choices to be made. He had the sneaking suspicion that even if he tried to backtrack it wouldn’t work. That would be counterproductive to the goal anyways, so forward Jason continued.

Until he hit a dead end.

Jason frowned at the mirror, confused what he was supposed to do now. He didn’t even have the time to try and turn around to attempt to find another route before the ground below his feet  _ rolled _ , knocking Jason to the ground despite his best efforts. The mirrored walls fell back and somehow disappeared into the floor, revealing the wider room, and Jason-

Jason was in a warehouse.  _ The _ warehouse. The one that haunted his nightmares. Wood paneling had replaced the stone and carpet, crates of medical supplies, a distantly rotting smell of untreated wood exposed to water.

And, worst of all, the Joker stood above Jason, a crowbar settled casually over one shoulder.

“What do you say Bird-boy, want to recreate some classics?” he chuckled, swinging down at Jason’s head before he even had the time to process what the hell had just happened.

It was a scene straight from Jason’s nightmares, retold in technicolor. Jason was in hell. He was fifteen again, any attempt at distancing himself torn to shreds. The blows rained down on him from above, cruel metal and the occasional booted foot bruising Jason’s skin to the point of splitting, cracking bones without care. At one point Jason bit his tongue, the thick iron taste of blood overpowering his taste buds. And the entire time there was Joker, chuckling and joking and trying to ask questions as if Jason was in any way a willing participant in this scenario.

“Forehand or backhand? Arm or leg? What do you think, Boy Blunder?”

Time passed that Jason couldn’t account for, minutes or hours, he couldn’t say. His rational thought was buried somewhere below the fear and pain, reality hazing over. He shouldn’t have snuck out here without telling Bruce where he was going. He shouldn’t have trusted a woman he didn’t know. He shouldn’t have tried to take on the Joker alone. Jason was going to die here, at the hands of this clown, and it was all his fault.

_ Please, stop. Let it end _ , he begged internally.  _ No more, I can’t handle all of this alone _ .

_ Hood _ , a voice that sounded an awful lot like Bruce’s echoed through his head. Not the response he had been expecting.  _ Hood, you have to focus. Jason! _

Jason blinked, pulled slightly out of his thoughts at how clear that had sounded. What was-

_ Jay, it’s not real. Focus, chum. You need to get information on Red Robin’s location, remember? _

_ What? _

And Jason- Hood, he was the Red Hood he remembered suddenly- was hit with a sudden wave of clarity that wiped away the haze. Details shifted slightly around him as his brain finally distanced itself. The pain slipped back into a dull ache and disappeared altogether as Hood rocketed off the floor, ripping the detested crowbar from the Joker’s hands and using the surprise of the move to push the clown to the floor. Because Jason  _ remembered _ now, where he really was. That this was nothing more than an attempt at illusions, and that he had just as much power here as his enemy. More than that, Jason had a purpose, and if there was one thing Jason knew it was that his will was the stronger one here. He would  _ not _ fail his baby bird.

The world seemed to stretch as Jason grew taller, broader, uniform growing and changing along with him. Grinning at the Joker’s surprised expression, Jason pulled one of his guns from its holster and flicked the safety off.

“Now, I think it’s my turn to ask the questions. I’d start talking if I were you,  _ Joker _ .”

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm, sort of a cliffhanger ending, you may think. 'What is happening to Tim?!' you may wonder. No fear my friends, this fic actually has a companion from Tim's perspective that will post on the 13th! Hopefully it will serve to answer some of your lingering questions...
> 
> Other than that, I'll be back tomorrow with day 7!
> 
> Edit: The companion fic has been posted [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26996899)!


End file.
